


Better When You Touch Me

by ashandcas (ashriddle4)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10x14 coda, Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Rimming, Sex, first time for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashriddle4/pseuds/ashandcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean realizes that the marks power lessens with Cas touches him, they decide to touch in all the best ways two people can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better When You Touch Me

_Dean’s in trouble._

Those words ricochet in Cas’s mind like poison darts. They’re true, though. They don’t have a way out. Cain was a dead end. He was Dean’s best hope, Cas’s best hope, and he was a madman, a twisted, sick look into Dean’s future. At least, Cas knows, that’s how Dean sees it. Cas isn’t sure what he’s doing when steps inside Dean’s bedroom and shuts the door behind him. He just knows somehow this is where he needs to be.

“Sorry,” Dean mutters. He’s sitting at the foot of his bed, hands folded between his legs.

Eyes and body weary from the day, Cas turns his head slightly, confused. “For what, Dean?”

“Look at me. Do I need to make a list?” Swollen cuts mar Dean’s face. He won’t let Cas use grace to cure him.

Cas takes a step forward. “Dean.”

Dean looks at his bare feet as he grips his hair. “For not saying, you know, goodbye. Before.”

He didn’t have to feel sorry for that. Cas wouldn’t have known what to say because he couldn’t have faced it. He lost Dean once and it tore him to pieces.

“You’re still here,” Cas whispers.

Dean shakes his head. “Am I?”

Cas isn’t sure this is okay, but he can’t stop himself from sitting beside Dean. _Dean’s bed, s_ omething sings in the back of his head. “It’s okay.”

Dean looks up at him. For the first time in days, just really looks at Cas – and Cas feels himself breaking.

“I can’t – say it – not to you.”

Cas swallows, trying to wet his mouth, but his voice still breaks. “ _Dean._ ”

He lifts his hand, rests it on Dean’s cheek like he was going to heal him, but he wouldn’t because Dean didn’t want him to. Cas runs his thumb over a mixture of dried blood and damp sweat. A thrill still races through Cas’s body at the physical connection. Dean leans into the touch as Cas pulls away.

A blush rises on Dean’s cheeks. He looks away. “Do that again.”

Cas narrows his eyes. “Do what?”

Dean grabs Cas’s hand like he’s going to pull it back to Dean’s face, but instead he just threads his fingers with Cas. They twist, turn and slide their hands together.

“It feels – better.” Dean’s voice is so quiet.

“What does?”

“ _The mark._ When you touch me.”

Cas inhales sharply.

Dean rubs circles onto Cas’s palm and then runs fingers up the edge of Cas’s coat sleeve. Dean looks so embarrassed. He has nothing to be embarrassed about. Not with Castiel – he’s seen everything Dean is, knows every atom of him body and soul. Broken, remarkable, infinitely precious.

“Is it ‘cause you’re an angel?” Dean mutters. Cas takes one of Dean’s hands in both of his and squeezes.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s better…stronger,” Dean’s so close to Cas now. Fragile words that come at a cost. They cost Cas too. ”When you touch my skin. And when I touch yours.”

Dean’s hands slide under Cas’s overcoat and suit jacket and push them off his shoulders. Cas is still wearing his shirt and tie, but he feels so exposed to Dean, as if he were bare. Timidly, Cas brings his hands to Dean’s flannel shirt. He feels the rough fabric, just for a moment, then pushes it away from Dean, tosses it onto the ground with his own clothes, brings his hands back to Dean.

They stay like that for a pause, the tips of their fingers feather light on the other. Cas slowly slides his hands up Dean’s arms. When he nears the mark, Dean tears away from him. Cas grabs his wrist, pulls Dean back.

“Dean,” Cas breathes as soft as anything, his hand sliding close to the mark again. “Please. Let me.”

Dean does.

Cas rubs his thumb against the raised skin. Darkness, hate, original sin, his older brother’s black magic, roils under that pristine skiin, but Dean’s whole body relaxes, tension becoming softness. He breathes deeply, scooting closer to Cas.

Dean leans his forehead on Cas’s shoulder. “You’re not using grace to – please don’t waste your grace on me.”

Cas speaks against Dean’s temple. “I’m not. I don’t understand. I’m not.”

Dean slides up from Cas’s shoulder, keeping contact between them the whole way. The hairs across Cas’s body all stand, as that tingly rush he’s come to associate with Dean’s closeness…with arousal… dances through him. Dean braces his forehead against Cas’s. Cas glances at Dean’s lips, at their soft pink curve, marred, split and bloody from his fight, damp and plump. This is a rush, a desire, like he’s never felt before.

“This is a bad idea,” Dean whispers.

“What is?”

“What I’m thinking right now.”

“The Mark?” Dean can’t be thinking what Cas is thinking. That would be absurd. He can’t want Cas like Cas wants Dean.

Dean shakes his head, moving Cas’s head with his.

“What is it?” Cas asks, his whole body trembling.

“ _Cas._ ” Dean’s voice trembles, it’s painted with want and need, with _desire._ Desire for Cas. He can feel it…and he can no longer deny it.

Cas’s hands cup Dean’s face and he leans in. He kisses Dean. Kisses him.

 _This,_ Cas thinks, _is the first moment I’ve ever been alive._

Dean kisses back, like 5 years of waiting, waiting, waiting have been decimated, crushed and now it’s all wanting, devouring, taking what the other wants to give. Dean pulls Cas closer with his tie, wrapping it around his hand, his other hand grips Cas’s thigh. Dean’s tongue presses through Cas’s lips and it’s an unusual sensation but he loves it, like he loves every part of Dean touching him.

Cas lets his body, lets instinct take over and he’s pushing Dean back against his bed. Cas pulls off his own tie and tosses it aside. Frantically, Dean’s thumbs work open the buttons on Cas’s white shirt until Cas can let the fabric slide off his shoulders.

Dean’s eyes go wide, his hands run along Cas’s bare torso, his fingernails catching on Cas’s nipples, stopping and pinching. Cas grabs Dean’s shirt, yanks it over his head and then crushes their mouths together again. He never wants to stop kissing Dean, as long as he continues to exist, he wants to be kissing Dean.

Cas lets his body press down into Dean. Cas tenses when he feels Dean’s erection through their pants. Cas slides over so that he can push his own into Dean’s. They echo the other’s groans. Dean’s hands grip Cas’s hips as he thrusts against him; Cas grinds back down – and they move against each other like this, hands roaming across exposed skin. Lips kissing kisses down Dean’s neck, across his perfect freckled shoulders. Cas remembers each of those freckles from when he knitted them back into Dean’s skin with his own grace.

Cas can’t take it anymore. He’s kissing down Dean’s torso and his hands land on Dean’s belt. He wants more, so much more, everything. Maybe Dean doesn’t though.

“Dean, do we stop?” Cas says, swiping his tongue quickly into Dean’s navel.

Dean grips Cas’s hair and pulls their gazes together. “You wanna stop?” He’s breathless.

Cas can’t shake his own fears. The one that kept him from doing this when he stayed in Dean’s motel room in Rexford. When they were tipsy and lonely. “You don’t want this.”

A long pause suffocates Cas. He starts to pull away, but Dean stops him. “I… _I do._ Do you?”

Cas looks up at Dean, hope ringing in his ears. He nods.

Dean smiles and it’s genuine, the Mark a distant, fuzzy thing. “Then we don’t stop.”

Dean sits up, pushing Cas with him, and unbuckles Cas’s belt, kissing Cas’s hip bones. He pushes down Cas’s black pants as Cas kicks off his shoes. He doesn’t tell Dean but he uses the tiniest bit of grace to remove his socks. With a shaky breath, Dean removes Cas’s boxers. His hands pause briefly and then near his cock. Dean runs a thumb across the slit, taking a drop of pre-come with him. Dean licks it away and Cas nearly loses his balance.

“Can I?” Dean asks, staring down at Cas’s dick.

“Of course,” Cas says, even though he’s not sure what Dean is asking. Cas is up for anything, anything at all.

Dean licks Cas’s dick and swallows around it. Cas thoughtlessly thrusts into the heat. Dean stops him with steady hands. Cas stills, and Dean moves his head and tongue again. It’s exquisite, Cas tosses his head back, revels in it, drowns in it. This is how he wants to die, watching Dean’s lips stretch and slide around his cock.

Except, he doesn’t because he still hasn’t seen Dean, touched Dean and he needs that. Cas shoves Dean back onto the bed and kisses him again. Cas blindly works on removing Dean’s belt and sliding off his jeans and boxers.

Cas knows what Dean’s dick looks like. How long and thick it is. He knows each vein, each tiny freckle, because he rebuilt him, but he doesn’t know him like this, real and exposed, and suddenly nerves nearly paralyze Cas. He forces himself to look anyway because he _wants._

Cas slides down to study Dean, to run his hands softly over his cock, his balls. He kisses the tip. It’s leaking, a lot, so Cas slides his hand through it, over Dean’s dick, making it slick. He leans up to kiss Dean’s lips again, when their cocks touch and fire singes his whole body. Cas circles his hands around both their dicks, using the pre-come, to slide them together as Cas thrusts into his own hand. Dean is gasping and writhing and whimpering as he meets Cas thrust for thrust, their mouths coming together and apart, breaths mixing.

“You’re beautiful, you’ve always been,” Cas whispers into Dean’s ear, licking beneath it. “God, you’re-“

“No, Cas.” Dean sounds frantic, separating themselves. He’s said something wrong. Dean is gonna leave forever. Cas wants to die.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asks, breaking.

Dean grabs Cas’s hand and slides it between his legs to his hole. Cas nearly shouts. “I want – I uh want – I mean not if you don’t want-“

“Tell me, Dean,” Cas whispers because he needs to hear it aloud, to make sure Dean is really asking for this, for the one thing Cas wants more than anything, that he’s never believed he could have.

“Uh, fu,” Dean pauses and then pushes one of Cas’s fingers against his rim. “inside me.”

Cas crushes his lips into Dean’s and then pulls back just enough to say, “Oh Dean. Yes, yes.”

Dean reaches over and pulls a bottle of lube out of his nightstand. It’s a small purple bottle, but it looks mostly like the blue one Cas keeps in the glove compartment of his Lincoln, for those nights when he can’t take it anymore and he touches himself and pretends that it’s Dean.

Cas slides down between Dean’s legs, pushing them back so he can get a better view. His hole is tight and pink, clenching even though there’s nothing in it. It’s lovely. Cas leans in and kisses Dean there. Dean arches off the bed. Cas’s hand brackets him back down as he licks Dean’s rim, kissing it and pressing his tongue inside. The tight muscle clenches around his tongue, and Cas thinks his head is going to implode.

Dean pushes his ass toward Cas’s face and Cas adores it. He could do this forever, but it won’t get Dean ready. He pulls back and coats his fingers with lube. He kisses Dean’s thigh and he presses one finger into him. It’s so tight, so warm.

“Feels so good, Cas. So full. More, baby, more.”

Did Dean just call him? He did. Cas knows that word means a lot to Dean because it’s what he calls the Impala. What he calls his home.

Cas presses another finger into Dean and stares at the wet slick rim that keeps swallowing him over and over.

“Cas, Cas, please. Oh Cas,” Dean shouts and Cas can’t believe this is because of him. He slides his hand up to coax Dean’s dick back to full hardness. He presses inside and strokes at the same time.

“You’re everything, Dean. Everything,” Cas mutters, totally, utterly wrecked.

Dean grabs Cas’s wrist, stops his touching. “I’m ready, Cas. I need please, just _please._ ”

Cas takes a shaky breath and pulls his fingers out of Dean. Cas pours some lube on his dick and slicks it up. Humans often use condoms at this point, but for men it’s for sexually transmitted disease protection and he, being an angel, is clean and so is Dean.

Cas presses the head of his cock against Dean’s entrance and slowly starts to push. The squeeze is overwhelming, incredible. “Please look at me. You’re so good, Dean. So good.” He’s breathless when he bottoms out inside Dean. Tears are streaking out of Dean’s eyes and down his cheeks. Cas tenses. “Are you hurt?” Cas is terrified he did something wrong, ruined this forever.

Dean shakes his head, crying even more. “No, it feels. You feel. I feel. Like me. I feel like me. For the first time since.” A few more tears escape, Cas kisses them away and then kisses Dean as he thrusts. It’s slow but hard. All need. All want. All love, love, love. He loves Dean. He is in love with Dean. Cas can’t make the words, so he’ll write them with his body. With each thrust, with each kiss. Dean’s fingers are pressing hard into his hips. If he wasn’t an angel, he’d be bruising terribly.

Dean is so tight and lovely and responsive. Their bodies moving together, messily, recklessly. They slip and fall and lose their position occasionally, but it doesn’t matter. Imperfect is good. It’s real and raw. Cas’s hand squeezes Dean’s dick in time with his thrusts.

“Cas, I’m gonna. Yes, yes, don’t stop.”

It buids inside Cas. He’s come before. Of course he has, but it’s never built like this, like he’s a new star bursting into existence. He wants to come inside Dean more than he’s ever wanted anything. He wants to be the one to mark Dean, not Cain, not Lucifer. No one but Cas.

Dean screams and comes all over Cas’s hand and Dean’s chest. It’s beautiful, it’s too much.

“ _Dean!”_ Cas thrusts once more, deep inside Dean and comes, in a volcanic rush of pleasure. He collapses against Dean, gasping for air. They both are. Cas pulls out and looks down to see his own come dripping out of Dean’s hole. The sight nearly kills him.

Cas slides up and pulls Dean into his chest, burying his face into Dean’s hair and pressing kisses into it.

“Stay,” Dean says weakly. “Not just tonight. Stay…with me.”

It’s an easy thing to say now. The easiest. “For as long as I’m alive.”


End file.
